


Christmas is my Favorite Time of Year

by kjack89



Series: Twelve Days of Christmas Giveaway Fics [7]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Developing Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Love Confession, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-07 01:15:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1113765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/kjack89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Grantaire's sister isn't able to make it in for Christmas, he calls the only of his friends still in town: Enjolras.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas is my Favorite Time of Year

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tumblr user starkly-amazing](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Tumblr+user+starkly-amazing).



> Usual disclaimer.

“Shit,” Grantaire swore as his phone rang while he was desperately running around his apartment in search of his keys. He pulled it out of his pocket with one hand while groping through the couch cushions with the other, and when he saw who it was on the phone, he swore again. “Shit.”

He managed to answer it while still searching for his keys. “Hey, Sis, I’ll be on my way soon, I promise, I’m just, uh, having a bit of car trouble—”

When his sister started talking urgently, he broke off, his expression going from mild exasperation to disgruntlement to sudden, utter sadness, his hand stilling in the cushions of the couch as she spoke. After she finished, he was silent for a long moment, until she spoke again, jolting him from his reverie. “Oh, yeah. I’m here. Sorry. No, that makes complete sense. Yeah, I know it’s not your fault. Yeah. Yeah, I will. Talk to you later. Love you.”

He hung up and sat down on the couch, his expression one of abject misery, because it was Christmas Eve. And due to a delay because of winter weather, his sister would not be joining him for Christmas, meaning he was going to spending Christmas alone.

If he was honest, his sister coming to visit was something he had been looking forward to for almost a month now. She had been gone at school for most major holidays, but now she was supposed to have been able to finally come visit him. Freezing rain was keeping her away, and the airline said that even if it let up soon, she most likely wouldn’t be able to make another flight until at least the day after Christmas, and quite possibly later than that.

Of course Mother Nature would not be on Grantaire’s side.

No one was ever on Grantaire’s side.

He stared down at his cell phone for a long moment, trying to figure out what he was going to do now. Everyone had gone home to their families and he was sorely tempted to just say fuck it and spend this Christmas the way he’d spent the last three, drinking until he could drink no more and then spending a few hours wrapped around the toilet, violently rejecting everything he had just forced into his body.

Maybe if he were in a better mood, he would at least try to go out and get drunk around other people, where he could at least pretend that he wasn’t trying to drink away his loneliness and the dark parts inside of himself.

But then again, he had been doing so well recently, cutting back on the amount he drank, for once not on anyone’s behalf other than his own. He just…drinking wasn’t solving any more problems than not drinking, it seemed, and had actually played a rather large role in creating them instead. His friends would probably be proud of him for coming to that realization, if they had even noticed, but—

No. He wouldn’t let himself continue down _those_ thoughts, because the bitterness only made the want of drinking worse, and besides, now was not the time of year that he wanted to be thinking bitter thoughts about the only people in the world who tolerated him.

Speaking of his friends, he wondered what they were doing right now, spending time with their families, if they had already opened gifts or if they were waiting until the morning, if Jehan’s mom would drag him to midnight mass or if Bossuet’s dad would knit matching sweaters for Joly and Bossuet like last year. He wondered how the pie Bahorel had made had gone over at dinner, if Combeferre’s parents had bought him all the books on his Amazon wishlist. He hadn’t yet received the panicked texts from Courfeyrac when his mom brought up the subject of when her darling boy was going to _finally_ settle down. And Enjolras—

Grantaire froze, realizing for the first time that he wasn’t the only one who hadn’t gone home to their family. Enjolras _would_ be having Christmas dinner with his family the next day, but since his family was having Christmas in the city rather than their estate in the country, Enjolras was staying in the city. Which meant…

Well, Grantaire didn’t know what it meant. He didn’t know what he expected from this sudden realization, since it’s not like he could just call Enjolras and see if he, what, wanted to hang out? There were lines that even Grantaire drew somewhere when it came to his own desperation, and those lines were pretty much right there.

But then again, if he didn’t call Enjolras, what the hell else was he supposed to do?

So against probably what little judgment Grantaire retained, Grantaire dialed Enjolras’s number and held his breath as it rang.

One ring…two rings…

“Hello?”

Enjolras didn’t sound peeved, the way that Grantaire half-expected him to, irritated that Grantaire would dare disturb him. Instead he sounded…well, he sounded curious. Grantaire cleared his throat and said, “Um, hi. It’s, uh, it’s me. Grantaire.”

Now Enjolras sounded slightly amused as he said, “Yeah, I gathered that, since my phone said, ‘Grantaire calling’.”

“Well, how clever of your phone,” Grantaire muttered, feeling stupid. “Maybe I shouldn’t have called.”

Enjolras sighed. “Grantaire. It was a joke. Is everything alright? You sound…” He trailed off as if he was searching for the right word. “You sound upset.”

Grantaire bit his lip, debating over what to say, and decided, pathetic as it was, to settle for the truth. “Honestly?” he said, laughing a little bitterly. “I just really needed to talk to someone, and you were the only person I knew of who wasn’t at home for the holidays.”

“Ah.” Enjolras sounded neither surprised nor upset by that fact, which confused Grantaire for a moment, and even more so when he continued, “Well, what’s up? I can definitely listen, since the only thing that I was doing was refreshing Twitter in the hopes that someone had posted something at least moderately interesting.”

Hesitantly, Grantaire asked, “You’re sure you don’t mind?”

“Grantaire.” Now Enjolras sounded much more like his usual self, a touch of impatience in his voice. “I promise that I don’t mind. I wouldn’t offer if I minded. So come on. Tell me what’s going on.”

Grantaire ran a hand through his hair and pulled his knees up to his chest, almost surprised as he found himself spilling the entire story to Enjolras — not just about his sister not coming to see him, but all the fucked up shit with his family, the very reason why he was sitting by himself on Christmas Eve, contemplating drowning an entire bottle of whiskey. Enjolras was a shockingly good listener throughout the entire story, speaking only to encourage Grantaire when he needed it, and when Grantaire was done, he sank back against the couch cushions, feeling something like relief at telling the story.

Enjolras cleared his throat. “Firstly, let me say that I’m very sorry that you’re alone for Christmas Eve and for Christmas. I’d offer to come over right now, but given the late hour, that doesn’t seem really practical.” Grantaire bit back a laugh, because of _course_ Enjolras was contemplating the practicality of something right now. “What I can do, however, is ask if you want to have Christmas dinner with me tomorrow.”

So shocked was he by the question that Grantaire actually took the phone away from his ear and stared at it as if it had grown limbs and become sentient. “Is that a joke?” he asked, his voice suddenly an octave too high. “I mean, I appreciate the offer and all, but don’t be stupid. I’m not going to crash your family’s Christmas just because I’m feeling sorry for myself.”

“Who said anything about my family’s Christmas?” Enjolras asked mildly. “If you think I haven’t been desperately looking for an excuse to get out of that miserable excuse for a family gathering, think again. I’ve used far worse excuses than this to ditch my parents.” Grantaire was silent, trying in vain to come up with something to say to that, but then Enjolras asked, “What were you planning on doing with Effy?”

“We were just going to go out and grab a bite to eat from this Chinese restaurant by my place,” Grantaire muttered, not even wanting to think about how that would compare to an Enjolras family Christmas, which was probably a many-course affair.

Enjolras, however, sounded almost relieved as he told Grantaire, “That sounds absolutely perfect. The one on the corner of your street and the main road? I’ll meet you there around two?”

Grantaire nodded, then realized Enjolras couldn’t see him and somehow forced himself to actually use his words. “Um. Sure. Sounds good. See you then.”

He hung up and stared at his phone, wondering what in the hell had just happened.

Across town, as soon as Enjolras had hung up, he had texted Jehan, asking if Jehan happened to know the phone number for a certain younger sister.

* * *

 

At promptly two the next day, Grantaire walked up to the little Chinese restaurant, with its sign proudly proclaiming, “YES — WE’RE OPEN ON CHRISTMAS.” There, waiting for him, looking particularly festive in his bright red peacoat (even though Grantaire knew full well that was his normal winter jacket), was Enjolras, and he offered Grantaire a hesitant smile. “Merry Christmas.”

Grantaire cleared his throat and tried in vain not to blush as he stammered “Merry Christmas” in return. He cleared his throat again and asked in a squeaky sort of voice, “Shall we go in, then?”

Enjolras’s smile widened and he held the door open for Grantaire, telling him courteously, “After you.”

Ducking inside, they were seated right away in the cozy little restaurant. Enjolras glanced over the menu, his expression amused. “I see they have Peking duck,” he said cheerfully. “We could pretend like we’re in _A Christmas Story_.”

“And, what, get the waiters to sing an incredibly racist version of ‘Deck the Halls’?” Grantaire chuckled, finding his tongue loosening and his mood improving just by being this close to Enjolras, which, ok, was probably a little fucked up, but at the same time, it also felt…nice. This entire thing, sitting in here on Christmas Day, the windows fogged against the chill outside, seemingly not another person in the whole world there, it felt…right.

Of course, he was hardly going to say something like to Enjolras, so instead he said, probably a little too loudly, “Well, you can get the duck if you want, but I think I’m going to go for shrimp in lobster sauce. Oo maybe with some crab rangoons. Or dumplings. What do you think, rangoons or dumplings?”

Enjolras raised an eyebrow at him and pronounced solemnly. “That is the stupidest question I have ever heard.” Grantaire’s face fell slightly, and he swallowed, hard, until Enjolras added, “The obvious answer is to get both. This is _Christmas_ , Grantaire, and one should not deprive oneself on Christmas.”

Grantaire laughed, relieved, and then said, feeling his face burn even as he said it, “Thanks for this. I’ve never really had anyone to celebrate Christmas with, and just…thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Enjolras told him, softly. “But you always have someone to celebrate with, Grantaire. You have all of us. Any one of us would have taken you with us for Christmas if we had known, and I hope you know that. Besides—”

Whatever Enjolras was about to say was interrupted when the waiter came over to take their order. Once their order was all set, Grantaire looked at Enjolras expectantly, waiting for him to continue, but instead, Enjolras cleared his throat and opened his messenger bag. “I hope you don’t mind,” he told Grantaire, suddenly sounding nervous, his ears burning red as he pulled his laptop out of his bag, “but I thought it might be nice if someone joined us for dinner.”

He opened the computer and clicked a few things and suddenly, blinking at him with a huge smile on her face, was Effy. Grantaire stared at her open-mouthed for a second. “Effy?”

“Hey, big brother,” Effy said easily. “Enjolras called me last night, asked if I could Skype with you guys today, which was totally cool of him to let me crash your date.”

Grantaire was so flustered by what was happening that he didn’t even bother correcting her. “But I thought you were stuck in the airport…”

Effy laughed. “There’s such thing as wi-fi, doofus. Enjolras gave me a hack for getting around having to pay for it, which is totally great.”

Glancing over at Enjolras, he was about to say something, to thank him, to just blubber like a giant baby, but Enjolras just shook his head, smiling slightly. “It was nothing.”

“Nothing?” Effy repeated, fixing Enjolras with a stare that was equal parts dubious and amused, a stare that Grantaire had seen turned on himself far too many times. “You also paid to bump me up to first class so that I can be on the next available flight, which means that I’m definitely going to be there first thing tomorrow.”

Now Grantaire openly gaped at Enjolras, who blushed. “It was nothing,” he muttered, waving his hand dismissively at Effy. “Seriously. I mean, I used my parents’ credit card, so really you should be thanking them. Not that they’ll probably even notice.”

Effy just rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Thanks, regardless. I’m sure my brother appreciates it. And I mean, I do, too.”

Grantaire nodded, his voice gruff as he told Enjolras, “I do appreciate it, seriously.”

After that, the conversation turned to other things, though Grantaire couldn’t help but glance back at Enjolras every now and then as if really seeing him for the first time. Their food came but Effy insisted that they eat with her so that she could try to live vicariously through them. Once they had finished their meal, Grantaire and Effy said a reluctant goodbye, even though they would see each other the next day.

As Enjolras packed his computer back up, Grantaire was oddly quiet, mostly watching him. They paid their bill and went outside, lingering in front of the restaurant. Grantaire’s hands were shoved deep in his pockets and he scuffed his shoe against the ground before asking Enjolras in a strange-sounding voice, “Why would you do all that for me?”

Enjolras glanced at him, surprised. “Because you’re you,” he blurted, before he could think of something else to say, and at the look on Grantaire’s face, tried to recover by saying quickly, “Because it’s Christmas.” Grantaire still gave him a look and he elaborated, “Because I’ve spent every Christmas I can remember either alone or, worse, with my parents. Because I know what it feels like and I wouldn’t want anyone to go through that. Especially because you’re supposed to spend Christmas with the ones you love.”

Though Grantaire nodded, his expression was unreadable, and he took a step closer to Enjolras, looking up at him with a serious expression as he told him, “I just wish that you got to spend Christmas with who you love, too.”

Enjolras half-smiled at him, reaching out to brush his fingers lightly against Grantaire’s cheek. “Oddly enough, I thought I did.”


End file.
